


heavy metal heart

by neocherry



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Future, Alternate Universe - Robots & Androids, M/M, Robots
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-27
Updated: 2019-02-20
Packaged: 2019-08-30 02:50:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 21,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16756432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neocherry/pseuds/neocherry
Summary: In a world of advanced technologies, Taeyong loses his father to a mess of wires and iron.When life seems dull and meaningless, he finds a gift on his basement that is capable of changing his perception of human nature and his own feelings.He's just not expecting to lose himself in the complexity of Taeil's existence.





	1. the awkward discovery and waffles

**Author's Note:**

> hey!  
> so, this is my first long fic and i'm kind of nervous bc of it ldsjdjksjd it was originally written in my mother language but i translated it for my moonies fellows!  
> i hope yall enjoy it and if anything, hit me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/taeil_ish)

His hazy eyes open up to an equally misty day out there. 

He doesn’t need a clock to know it is past midday, his routine on the last month has been the same: swallowing a pill bigger than his throat, drinking wine and passing out. It was the only way he could sleep. 

And he liked the numbness that the pills and alcohol produced on his mind.

Taeyong is truly miserable these days. He feels like there is nothing left for him; everything is working on automatic, senseless, as if his routine gained life and kept moving without his will. He is an outsider of his own life, watching the days passing by without having any control over his actions or emotions.

Everything repeated itself and he just stood there, sitting on the couch, watching. He would wake up, freshen up, eat some frozen food, go to college and back to his house, to his pills and wine. 

He takes a deep breath. He forgot to close the curtains before collapsing on his white sheets, the clarity hurts his eyes but he finds no strength to get up and close it. When he closes his eyes again, he is taken back to some months ago, when he would scream for Mr. Lee and he would come and bring coffee and waffles and a smooch on his forehead as a good morning -- even if it was past twelve p.m.

But now, if he screamed, nobody would listen to him. There is no smooches or waffles and coffee. There is no Mr. Lee. 

It was the 13 th when he received the news that wrecked his whole world. On the night before that, his father hadn’t come home and he just assumed he was too busy working on his new project. Mr. Lee was a famous engineer, working for the government and stuff that didn’t really interest Taeyong but he couldn’t deny that he was proud of. 

He woke up on the next morning with the sound of desperate knocks on the door, didn’t even bother to dress properly before going downstairs in what seemed like the speed of light. He knew something was wrong when he saw Mr. Lee’s secretary standing there, with her pink lips parted, trying to find words to explain what just happened.

His father was dead. Killed by one of his own designs, leaving a clueless Taeyong alone in the world.

By now, one month after his death, Taeyong had stopped searching for someone to guilt over his father’s incident. He accepted that it was faith, that it had to happen, and it was okay. He knew he would overcome this pain and get his life back on tracks, he just didn’t know when.

With a sigh, he gets up. Dizzy from the intoxication from last night, he totters towards the bathroom, the unpleasant reminder that he is soon having visit bothered his peaceful mind. He could be on grief, but he still had his manners and vanity. 

The cold water against the soft skin of his pale face is, as always, like a life saver, bringing him back from his oblivion. Black shirt and black denim, black socks and black shoes. The red strands of hair standing just in the limits of his eyelids, concealer on the dark circles under his eyes, and the doorbell just when the clock turns 1 p.m.

He tries not to look as bad as he is inside, trying his best to smile when he opens the door. But, even though he is pretending, the woman knows he was in pain. She has been in his life since Taeyong was a little kid and by now, she knew him better than himself. She smiles back -- a pity smile, he had to notice, and holds out a brown paper bag. It is his favorite meal, cooked by his favorite  _ chef _ in the whole world, and he doesn’t need to open it up to know what it is.

Taeyong observes her features. The same damn pink lipstick from the last time they had seen each other, the perfect crafted chalk line suit, the perfect hair cut, nails, shoes, legs. Just to look at her you could see she was an expensive woman, exuding luxury in all the minimum details. Even the way she smiles is too fancy for him. He steps inside, a silent invitation for her to come in, following his way to the living room.

“Mr. Lee, you look… healthy” She speaks low, pronouncing each vowel perfectly, slowly, like a therapist. Taeyong looks above his shoulder, smiling in acknowledge. “We were all worried about you.”

His cold hands let the brown bag on the counter, his throat feeling sore. He isn’t really in the mood for chit chatting, but he guesses he owns it to the woman. Pulling the black bench away from the mobile, his long legs finally rests when he takes his seat, his eyes pierced on a dot above the secretary’s head. It is still hard for him to lie looking into someone’s eyes. “There’s nothing to worry about, Janine. I’m doing fine.” He smiles again, softly.

“I believe you.” She nods, her perfect ginger hair moving along. Her tiny hands straighten the skirt before sitting against the light colored sofa. “The dean made us a phone call this past week, he said that you have a perfect attendance even though they gave you this month free from college.”

Taeyong arches an eyebrow. Since when did the dean made personal phone calls to talk about students? Oh, yes, he never did. Just as they never gave regular students a month off of college for grief. He had always hated to be treated differently for being son of his father, and this hasn’t changed at all.

“Don’t be upset, Mr. Lee, he’s just making sure you’re fine. We all are.” Janine says, noticing he’s not gonna say anything about the subject. She crosses her legs, uncomfortable for the situation that she created. “Well, after your father died I became a very busy figure on the building, so I only came to check on you really. And to remind you to collect his engines for donation.”

Taeyong’s father was a genius. Really, a man ahead of his time, and Taeyong didn’t need to understand about physics and mathematics to know about it. He remembered, from his childhood memories, that his father had the basement filled with machines and iron and wires which little Taeyong didn’t understand. He and Janine had decided to donate all the complete ones for an auction to help street puppies, and the younger one was in charge of collecting the items.

“Ah, right, I was almost forgetting about this.” He says, a nostalgic grin adorning his features as he remembered his moments on that room. “I’ll get everything done before the weekend, promise.”

Janine smiles and stands up, her heels cracking against the clear marble floor as she approaches him, her fingers reaching the red strands of his hair. Taeyong misses her caresses, he can’t lie to himself, and his eyes closes instantly when he feels her soft fingers rubbing against his scalp.

“Promises are bonds we can’t break, Mr. Lee. Be careful making them.” And, as quick as those little happiness fill our hearts, Janine’s feminine touch is gone, for Taeyong’s sadness. She patts him on the back, the same heartwarming smile painted those fake pink lips, like a silent goodbye. “I’ll send someone to catch everything by Friday, is that good for you?”

He nods, there’s nothing else he can do. She waves and leaves Taeyong with the image of her perfect posture drifting away from his house, alone again with nothing but his thoughts and loneliness. He sighs again, dragging his figure out of the stool he’s been sitting on, his smooth steps coming to meet the stairway that leads to the basement and garage.

It is a huge house, Taeyong always thought like this. It was huge when his father lived with him and its huge now that there’s only him; maybe he wouldn’t feel as lonely as he feels now if the place was smaller.

Determined to accomplish his promise, Taeyong starts to go through all of those machines his father left untouched. They went from automatic toasters that produces its own bread to prototypes of flying cars, and he just realizes that it may take more than a week for him to analyze it all. Being lonely can be tough sometimes.

xx

 

It is only by Thursday in that same week that Taeyong finds that bizarre  _ thing _ .

At first, he was scared. A guttural cry left his vocal chords as soon as his fingers dragged the black fabric down, revealing what seemed to be a man. A sleeping man, and Taeyong had to touch it to come to the realization that what he was seeing was, actually, skin.

At second, he was doubtful. That wasn’t a man, and if it was then he was sure it was a dead man. He poked it a thousand times and it hasn’t moved a muscle, it was humanly impossible to be that quiet.

At third, he finds a note, a fluorescent yellow post-it pinned against that  _ thing’s  _ left shoulder. He could recognize his father’s handwriting, like a doctor’s letter that he suffered so much to read. 

He isn’t sure if he wanted to read it, he has been feeling so well since he started to collect the items of the basement. His mind was finally filled with something but his misery and loneliness, busy with all those stuff he didn’t have no time to think about bullshit. He isn’t secure that he would stay like that if he had any kind of contact with his dead father.

But, at least, he decides to hold the post-it on his bare hands and look at it – from behind, of course. He feels his breath fanning too quick, anxiety filling his veins. That note had an explication for whatever the fuck that humanoid was, and Taeyong was tired of trying to figure it out by himself. He sighs, curiosity winning against fear, and turns the note to finally read his father’s words:

_ Taeyong, _

_ If you found him, this means I’m dead. _

_ I constructed this artificial intelligent robot because I know you’re gonna be lonely once I’m gone. Consider him as your friend, while you get ready to actually interact with other humans than Janine. His name is Taeil, all you have to do is turning him on by saying his name. I hope he fills the gap I left in your life. _

_ With love, from beyond life, _

_ Dad. _

Of course Taeyong hesitated. He steals a glance at this very human  _ artificial intelligent robot.  _ His hair on a dark shade of brown, looking extremely soft, begging to be caressed. His lips resting on a line, cracked as if its dry on the winter, on a smooth shade of pink, looking like an oil painting. His skin even has pores! 

And he dresses one of Taeyong’s old sweaters and the blue jeans he loved so much. He feels stupid, what kind of person was he that he needed his dead father to construct him a robot so he would feel less lonely?

He twists on his heels, giving his back to the humanoid and decides he won’t turn it on. He doesn’t need it, he prefered being lonely better than depending on a  _ thing  _ that wasn’t even human to feel better with himself and knead the little yellow note, making a ball out of it and tossing it inside his pocket.

“Stupid Taeil, I don’t need you” he says, way too loud, and forgets the words written on the note. His lithe steps proceed to the stairs, but he is stopped when he hears a sound behind him. A sound too much alike the sounds that his own shoes makes, except he isn’t moving, he isn’t doing anything, and he is frozen. He can hear it clearly, too terrified to look behind, but he knows what’s going on. He said  _ its  _ name and know it has come to life, he is scared to look and see a man standing in the middle of his dusty basement like a real human being, he is scared of what can happens.

What if it is a crazy machine? What if it tries to kill him?

Taeyong closes his eyes, he’s never been that scared before and tries to convince himself that it’s all tricks of his mind. This isn’t happening, is just his lonely brain tired of being alone. He takes a deep breath and decides to leave, since the steps have gone quiet now. But as he moves the first muscle to the stairs, he can hear a soft yet warm clear voice, talking to him so low he even questions himself if he is listening correctly.

“Mr. Lee?”

He turns, hesitantly, a frightened frown resting on his features, to face the robot standing there, eyes blinking, hands twined, perfect posture, even shaking the brown strands of hair away from his eyelids. “Y-yes?”

The robot mouths a smile, a very bright one. His teeth is perfect, white as pearls, and his cheekbones sticks out. He comes closer, carefully, standing some meters away from its owner.

“I’m Taeil, the artificial intelligence.” He extend his arm in greetings, on a perfect angle that could only be made by a robot, too mechanical this time. It’s the first sign that he is, actually, not human and Taeyong feels oddly better after it. “It’s nice to finally meet you, sir.”

Even though he is scared, Taeyong dares to take the robot’s handshake. A chill comes down his spine as his feel it’s warm skin, just like a human’s, scared of his father creation.

“Y-you can call me Taeyong.” It’s gonna take a long time before Taeyong can actually stop stuttering when talking to the robot, he figures. “I’m sorry to bother, I turned you on by an accident.”

“You took long to find me, actually.” The robot replies, and Taeyong realizes that, beyond having a beautiful voice, the way he speaks recalls him of that lady from Google translate. “Your father told me you would find me in the first week posthumously his death.”

Oh yeah, he talks like that lady as well.

“You’ve met my father?” He asks, his head is spinning and it feels like there’s no room for his brain to think correctly. It’s too much for his sad self to swallow, he can’t actually believe what he was living.

He should, tho. The machine can’t quite understand his surprise to see a talking and walking robot in his basement, since the society he lives in is full of weird technologies like him. The company which he provided his living of sells flying cars and levitating elevators, secure systems that could read visitors intentions and mobile phones with artificial intelligence as developed as the robot himself. It’s weird to think that robots, like Taeil, aren’t walking freely on the streets everyday.

“Uh… yes? He made me.” Answers the robot, thinking that this human is funny. Taeyong hasn’t relaxed not even a bit, feeling a whole mountain on his shoulders, increasingly tense with the conversation with the humanoid and that is written all over his face.

“How long did it take for my father to construct you?” Is the next question, and believe me, the young Lee has a lot of them for the robot.

“Around five years.”

Five years? And Taeyong never even suspected that his father was creating a  _ living creature  _ on his basement. What else did Mr. Lee hid from him? It could be seen as a cute thing, this robot that his father created for him not to feel lonely, but Taeyong felt… betrayed. He couldn’t believe that his father would rather spend time creating this little toy than actually spending time with him.

He deep breaths, it isn’t the robot’s fault anyway, there is no use in discount his sadness and disappointment in the poor bot. He lets his shoulders relax for the first time, it had become clear that the robot wasn’t gonna do him no harm. He isn’t scared anymore.

“Do you… eat?” Taeyong isn’t really in the mood for having company right now, but he is too polite to just send the robot back to the basement again. The least he could do is offering him something to eat, to drink. Maybe oil? He had no idea what is suitable for a robot.

“I don’t have a necessity for food, but I do have a stomach, yes.” It answers, brightly smiling, and looking upstairs. “I can join you in your meal if you would like me to. I can cook as well.”

Taeyong’s eyebrow arch in acknowledge. He mouths an “ah”, without knowing what to think, or say.

“You’re very robotic for a friend, Taeil.” is all he says, making his way back to the higher levels of the house with the metal guy in his pursuit. Maybe this could be a good thing, after all. He could finally stop eating frozen food and have real healthy habits for once. And maybe a friend to talk to, once he gets used to the male version of the lady from Google translate. “What can you cook?”

The robot smiles. He may be artificial but he is programmed to have perception and tact, and right now he knows that Taeyong is giving him a chance. Mr. Lee has downloaded in him loads and loads of archives about his son, so Taeil knows a lot about Taeyong. He knows that, despite not wanting the company from a robot, he is accepting it anyway because he is polite. And for its robotic mind, Taeil found it beautiful how people could be so fake to the point of putting themselves in situations they didn’t want to be just to satisfy the others.

“I can cook anything. You father have programmed me to know cookery from fifty different countries.” They reach the kitchen, and the robot contours the marble counter while Taeyong sits on one of the benches. “Just ask whatever you want to eat.”

Taeyong takes a moment to think. There’s been days since he hasn’t eat by hunger, just eating to attend his body needs. He hasn’t had the pleasure of savoring a good meal in a while, and he used to love to eat. He himself was a decent cooker, but nothing seemed worth enough getting his kitchen dirty.

But then, he has an idea. This simple, childish dish that he used to eat every sunday morning with his dad on the coffee in the next corner. It felt like the food had a feeling of his own, and this is why he didn’t eat anymore, because he couldn’t handle all of the memories. But suddenly, he could feel its taste on his tongue, his mouth waters and he is sure it is time to bring tradition back.

“Waffles. Do you know how to cook them?”

Without saying anything, Taeil started to pick the ingredients on the locker, as if he has lived in this house for five years, knowing exactly Taeyong’s organization pattern.

And he could lie to himself, but it is good not being alone for once.


	2. nakamoto yuta and the erotic robot

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is a little smaller than the other chapters but it’s a important piece to introduce taeyong’s dynamics with yuta and taeil  
> hope y’all enjoy it 💓

“Your father did what?!”

That is, perhaps, the naturally appropriate reaction one would have when hearing your best friend’s father constructed an artificial intelligent robot, but well, Taeyong isn’t expecting the high pitched scream that echoed throughout the cafeteria. He shushes the younger boy by placing his index above his own lips, whispering a short “shh”. “Don’t scream, Yuta! Nobody needs to know that I have a robot as a wife waiting for me back home.”

They exchange an accomplice look and quickly laugh at the situation. Taeyong isn’t actually happy, but at least now he could laugh at his own misery. 

“How’s it? Does it makes everything you want?” Yuta asks, his eyes glimmering with curiosity. If this guy had a robot, it surely wouldn’t be to be his friend; the boy with dark purple strands had a creativity that even god doubts. “Like, everything?”   
Taeyong shakes his head, his features writhing in disgust.    
“No, Yuta! He’s a robot, for God’s sake.” He laughs, even though he’s unsettled by the idea. “I guess he would do it, if I asked. But I won’t.”   
“Why? Ain’t he cute?” Yuta doesn’t seems to feel bothered by the idea of having sexual contact with a robot, if he looked like a human there would be no problem at all.

It’s not like Taeil isn’t cute, because he is. Taeyong likes the design that his father created, everything seemed to be settled, nonetheless Taeil was far away from being pretty on Korean standards. Taeyong thinks he’s pretty – his fluffy and shiny hair gives him a boyish vibe, the dark eyes sparkle like a million stars in the night sky, his chapped lips clasped in a cute half moon shape. Of course, he is just pretty for robotic standards — Taeyong isn’t overthinking this, no.

“He’s cute, my father had good taste in design.” He answers, finally, laughing at this odd conversation. “Is just that I’m not this lonely yet to reach for a robot for sex.”   
“You should give him a chance.” Yuta shrugs, his lips capturing the red straw and drinking from his coke. Taeyong has always envied Yuta’s open mind, the younger one was always up to anything. “I’m not saying you should fuck him in the computer room, Tae.” He giggles, and as always, the day looks brighter with his glimmering teeth and sun-like smiles. “I’m just saying that he may be a good friend, someone to talk to.”    
“I already have you, Nakamoto.” Taeyong says, his plump lips forming a pout, his slender finger toying with his own red straw. “I don’t need a robot. This makes me feel way more lonely than I already was.”   
“It’s always good to have friends, Lee. Don’t be like that.” Yuta nudges his arm, a warm smile resting on his lips.    
He knows deep down that Yuta is right. That damn Scorpio always is, Taeyong doesn’t even know why he insists in arguing with his friend every damn time. 

They finish their drinks before heading to classes, and for the first time the red haired guy doesn’t even put some effort in paying attention in anything else but his thoughts about the robot-guy waiting for him back home.    
It has been… a crazy week. After eating Taeil’s delicious waffles, Taeyong had decided he was going to shut the bot down and put him together with the donations. He was fully sure he didn’t need it, that he didn’t want it, but he found himself coming day after day to the basement just to… chat. And when they came to collect the donations, Taeyong couldn’t give Taeil away. He was scared to be lonely again.    
So that’s when he decided to tell Yuta about it all. And that’s when Yuta sewed this horrible doubt in the grasses of his mind. His eyes travel far, across the room, to the other wall where his japanese friend leans. Maybe he is right, he should be nice to the bot, it isn’t fair to act like a motherfucker and leave the poor dude locked in the basement. Even though  _ it  _ has no feelings, it wouldn’t be polite.    
He lifts, grabs his backpack and leaves the classes. With his right index, he touches the earbud and a hologram screen appears before his eyes, showing the home screen for his mobile phone.    
“Call Taeil.” He says to no one in particular and watches as the artificial intelligence of the cell phone does all the work. As soon as he hears the ringing of the call, he touches the earbud again, watching as the screen disappears and he can see his path again.    
It doesn’t ring twice before he has an answer.   
“Mr. Lee? Is everything ok?” Says the warm, yet robotic voice on the other side of the call.    
“Yes, everything’s perfect.” Taeyong replies, automatically. “What have I told you about calling me Mr. Lee?”    
“You said not to.” And Taeyong can’t help but smile after hearing the robot sounding like a kid who’s been grounded. “But, if everything is fine, why are you calling me?”   
Taeyong breathes. He doesn’t know either, he just acted according to his instincts. He looked around, trying to find something to say, anything, even the weather would count. But Taeyong has always been terrible in chit chatting, this is one of the number one reasons why he doesn’t have many friends.    
A little glimmer call his attention on the other side of the road, and he can’t stop himself from looking. Is a huge billboard on the top of a random building, the announcement is, of course, from his dad’s enterprise, showing the new glowing model of a flying car. Taeyong finds it ironic how he was always surrounded by things that resembled of his dad, in the most inappropriate moments ever. The city was full filled with billboards and neon lights, even during the day, inciting the consume of weird technologies nobody really needed, like a blender that talks six different languages and associations.    
It was looking at the dumb announcement that Taeyong realizes a thing; his father didn’t put a price on his most brilliant invention. No, that one was made one and only for his son, and there was no money in the entire world that could buy the feeling the young man had on his core of being… exclusive. Exclusive for his dad.   
So he decided, quick like that, to become friends with Taeil.    
“Are you still on the basement, Taeil?” He asks, his long legs taking long steps across the streets of the busy city.   
“Yes. You told me not to move unless you say so.” Answers the robot, calm and systematically.    
Taeyong closes his eyes for just a second. If Taeil wasn’t programmed to like him, he would probably already have blown his brains away.    
“Oh Taeil, I have so much to teach you. I didn’t mean it, you can go up.” He lies, and prays for the bot to not have a system to detect lies or something like that. “I’m going home, my classes are over for today.” There goes another lie. “And I decided I am going to give you a chance. Maybe we should see a movie?”    
“Sure! One of my functions are projecting through my eyes.” He says, excited to finally be useful, and Taeyong laughs. He laughs hard, and the bot doesn’t understand why. “Taeyong, why are you laughing? What happened?”   
“Oh.” The laugh ceases, and Taeyong shakes his head. “You were being serious?” The bot doesn’t answers this time. Humans are way too complicated, he could have seven millions functions but none of then included understanding human humor. “C’mon Taeil, I’m giving my best here!”    
“I don’t think I understand, sir.”    
Taeyong rolls his eyes, turning left on the corner of his fancy street. He can see that the lights of the living room are turned on, and his heart feels… warm, he is happy that he let the bot leave the basement.    
“Just… all you have to do today is act like my friend. No bizarre functions, no projecting things through your eyes or laser guns on your fingers. Just need a friend.”    
“But Taeyong, I am your friend.”    
The red haired guy gives the earbud two hits and the phone call is over. He doesn’t know why but he feels vivid having this conversation. Crazy, right? Feeling vivid for talking to a robot.   
Taeyong opens the front door and Taeil’s head moves, spinning to the side to observe. The first one shows a smile, getting rid of his shoes by the door and leaving the backpack tossed around there. He takes lithe steps, reaching the couch and sitting to face the bot, who seats perfectly with his back against the backrest.    
“So, I am willing to accept this crazy robot thing you are.” Taeyong says with a grin, leaning forwards to support his forearms on his thighs. “But you don’t need to have super speed or fly, okay? Just be normal, boring like a human.”    
“Ok, Taeyong.” Taeil assent, smiling shyly. Or maybe Taeyong thinks it’s a shy smile, he’s not entirely sure if Taeil is capable or not to have feelings.   
“Well, I’m assuming you know about this because you are like a super intelligent guy, right? But one of the things we humans do with our friends is watching movies.” He states, getting up of his seat and reaching for the mobile with thousand and thousand of movies. Yes, DVDs – like that 20th Century relics that remembered Taeyong of his childhood days. He liked to keep them around, to remember of times when things were simpler.    
“What are those?” The bot asks, coming closer to the mobile. He takes one in his hands, it’s the first movie from the Harry Potter series, and opens the box, observing the CD inside. “I don’t recognize.”   
“Guess you’re not that smart, then, metal head.” Taeyong replies, shrugging and gently taking the box from Taeil’s warm hands. He tosses it inside the DVD player, deviating his look back to the humanoid. “It’s just an old way of watching movies and series. It’s a DVD, we used it a lot before everything was digital.”    
Taeil nods, taking his seat back again. He likes the way the couch feels against the fabric of his jeans, its so fluffy and different from the rough mobile of the basement. He knows what’s inside and what it is made of,  but he can’t describe, not in a hundred languages, the feeling he gets when his hands run through the clear fibers.    
And if feels awkward not knowing how to describe something.    
“Anyways, when I was kid DVDs weren’t popular anymore. I like then because they remind me of my mother, she was a really retro person.” Taeyong continues, catching the bot’s attention away from the new feeling he had just discovered.    
“How old are you, Taeyong?” Taeil asks instead of doing a weird robot thing, as Taeyong said earlier, and look on his files, he just waits for the answer.   
“I’m 23.”   
“You just sounded like a 90 year old man.”   


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yo yo yo yo  
> mr nakamoto is a wise man and taeyong can be nice sometimes~~  
> talk to me on [curious cat](https://curiouscat.me/taeil_ish)


	3. on wednesdays we talk about feelings and penis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey there yall  
> this is one of my fave chapters, its a funny but meaningful one  
> i hope yall can like it too

“Again, why do I need to buy clothes, Taeyong?” Hums the robot, and if he was a human being Taeyong was sure he would be all grumpy and in a bad mood. The thought makes Tae laugh a little. “What? What did I missed?”   
“Nothing, Ilie.” Taeyong pushes his artificial friend through the shopping mall crystal walls, that fresh smell of everything new fills his lungs as soon as he deep breathes. He decided it was time for Taeil to stop borrowing his clothes and have a style of his own; he didn’t match with Taeyong’s extravagant clothes. He was much more of a sweater and joggers guy, so why don’t give the poor bot a personality? “Buying clothes is cool, you’re gonna see.”   
“I don’t even need to wear clothes, I don’t understand why you’re insisting on this.” Taeil complains for the possibly hundredth time. What a boring personality his father gave to the robot, why does he always have to question everything?   
“Not everyone wants to see your weird robotic dick, Taeil.” And every time Taeil complains, Taeyong rolls his eyes. They turn in the next corner, there’s a department store just in the end of the hallway and Taeyong thinks his robot is gonna like it there.   
“I don’t understand why anybody besides you have to see me. I am a robot, I was made to stay in.” He insists, turning his head to face Lee’s not friendly face, already regretting from insisting in bringing a boring machine to such fun place. But he is going to be patient, he had come so far now and giving it up for another evening of wine and Harry Potter movies is not an option. No, this time they would do something different.   
“You’re my friend, we’re supposed to hang around, right?”    
Taeil decides to stay quiet. He won’t say anything, this whole “being friends” thing is still a very delicate subject for Taeyong and he often felt like the boy could turn his back at him again anytime soon. He kept his doubts and complains for himself, decided that maybe being out could be enjoyable. He can take the chance to learn something about the human race that isn’t on his programs and systems, he can learn how to… pretend. Taeil can pretend he’s human.    
Some few stores after, a whole world of sweaters and funny t-shirts with phrases about technologies and robots bought, Taeyong’s stomach started to growl. Both boys follow to the food court, Taeil’s amazed eyes still glimmering with the diversity of all the humanity around him and Taeyong having his fun watching the cute robot break his head trying to figure it all out. He never thought deeply about how complex life can be; for him it was always black and white, being born, go through some shit, have kids (maybe, this isn’t even a thing anymore) and dying. For him, it was always this boredom, but he started  to think that it’s better living in this dull routine than being born from systems and programs, like his friend Taeil did.    
“Do you have memories, Taeil?” He suddenly asks, synchronizing his footsteps with the other’s as they search for an empty table. His whole being was still a mystery for Taeyong, there were so many questions he didn’t even know what to ask first. But this is a good choice, since memories are such an important thing for Taeyong. With both his parents dead, all he has are the sweet memories of good moments spent along with them. “Like, human memories?”   
“Well, I can remember everything because I keep records in my mind.” He replies, searching in Taeyong’s face for signs that shows that he is satisfied with the answer. But what he finds is a boy with arched brows and twisted nose, so he thinks that maybe it’s better to elaborate. “I don’t think human memories work like this. You, humans, have the tendency to only remember what’s important for you, and sometimes you remember things that didn’t even happen. What I mean is that human memory is such a subjective thing, it can be influenced by feelings and sensations. It’s not a very reliable thing.”    
Taeyong needs a little time to absorb it all and make sure he understood it correctly.    
“Like if my mind is making me believe that I actually lived something in a way but in real life that thing didn’t happen in that exact same way?” He had a question mark pressed against his forehead. This was such a difficult thing to believe in, but this young human tended to believe everything his robot said lately.    
“Yes, exactly. You can remember a date with someone in a way but the other person can remember the evening being completely opposite of your memory.” They stop walking when they reach an empty table in the middle of the crowded food court. Taeil sits by the bench while watching as Taeyong vanishes, towards his favorite restaurant. He knows that Taeil doesn’t need to eat but every time he has to satisfy his own hunger he would always make Taeil try delicious food and flavors. He’s probably the most well treated AI of all times.    
Not long after, Taeyong returns with a tray carrying an Arabic name, one that Taeyong always fails to pronounce even though is his favorite. He comes with a smile on his face, bringing back a small cup with a vivid green cream that Taeil discover as being ice cream.   
“So, Wall-E” that is the cute nickname Taeyong gave him after they watched the movie together, on the beginning of the week. “This is ice cream, one of human’s best invention. I’m pretty sure you know how to cook this, Mr. “i know fifty different culinary cultures”, but have you ever actually tasted this?”   
One thing that always bothers Taeyong is that Taeil never laughs. He never giggles, no matter how funny Taeyong is being. He knows is part of his robotic self but he just wished to hear a good old laugh coming out of his pretty mouth.   
That didn’t happened that time, anyway. Taeil just shook his head, signing that no, he never tasted ice cream.    
Since Taeyong found out that Taeil had sensors that worked just like taste buds on his tongue, he have been pretty excited about showing the robot all the good stuff around there. He pushed the little cup with a spoon on the other one’s direction, settled himself on the other half of the table and faced the boy with curiosity.    
“Go ahead, I want to see your reaction.” He encourages, happily. “It’s mint flavored.”   
Taeil dives the plastic spoon on the soft cream and his mouth engulfed a huge amount of it. It is fresh, like he imagined a summer breeze by the beach would be, and at the end it is cold, leaving a funny sensation on his tongue. The taste itself is amazing, reminding him of the taste of that paste humans use on the teeth that Taeyong forced him to prove, but better.    
“It seems like that thing for brushing your teeth.” is all he says, but he couldn’t stop himself from eating more and more. Taeyong bursts into laugh, remembering of the tooth paste accident. His face back then was just so funny, Taeyong wished he was a robot too to film it.“Hey, what’s so funny?”   
“I was just remembering your face when I made you taste tooth paste.” He replies, cleaning the little drops of cry on the corner of his eyes. “But it doesn’t matter anyway, you never laugh at anything.” He shrugs.   
Taeil feels like this is some kind of hidden complaint – that thing that humans call sarcasm, but he doesn’t understands it. He just keep on savoring his ice cream being the happiest robot in the universe.   
But then, he thinks about something. Is a curiosity he has since the day Taeyong turned him on, but never felt at ease enough to say anything. He clears his throat, not that he needs to because robots never have obstructions anywhere, but he likes to do it. It feels like a real man. He has been watching Taeyong devouring his kibes and kebabs for a while now, maybe his humor had brighten up from all the food.    
“Hey, Taeyong. Can I ask you something?” Taeyong drops his fork immediately, he knows something big is coming up, otherwise Taeil wouldn’t ask permission. He nods. “How did… uh.” The bot hesitates, he is sincerely scared of being unsympathetic and bring pain to Taeyong. That was the last thing he wanted.    
Taeyong engulfs his little hand with his, smiling warmly.    
“It’s ok, you can ask anything.”   
That is a touch Taeil never felt before. It felt secure, Taeyong’s hand is a soft one, like lavender and cotton. Taeil likes it, it remembered him of the touch of his hand against the fabric of the couch, and he doesn’t want to let go.   
“How did Mr. Lee died?” He finally asks, looking Taeyong on the eyes. He isn’t sure yet how Taeyong feels when he had to talk about that subject, nothing on his systems seemed to fit for that situation but his curiosity is bigger than anything right now. “I looked up online but I know he didn’t die of a heart attack, right?”   
Taeyong compresses his lips together and breaks the contact between their skins. Taeil feels slightly disappointed, he can’t deny it, and the other boy strokes the skin of his nape, slightly scratching it.    
“No, he didn’t.” He answers, finally, leaving a sigh blow through his lips. “He… he died on an accident with one of his inventions. A spaceship.” Taeil feels something like… regret? Maybe? He doesn’t know what it is, but it makes him want to go back in time and not make this question. He doesn't like the way Taeyong's eyes turned darker and how he seems to avoid his gaze at all costs, too focused on the biten pieces of his last kibe to look the robot in the face. But even if Taeil feels stupid and Taeyong feels uncomfortable, it was an issue Taeyong should learn how to deal with. And Taeil thinks he is taking this pretty well. “It was a work for the government. They were on the test phase and there was a failure on the communication system, the turbines ignited while he was still underneath them.”    
Taeil imagined something really terrible must have happened for the government to hide the motive of his death, but his wired mind could never even picture that it was a tragedy like this. He wishes he was already turned on when it all happened, at least Taeyong would have someone to talk to.   
"Did you have to bury him alone?” He asks, his mouth parted in horror.    
“They couldn’t find not even particles of his ashes.” Taeyong answers, a small lonely tear comes down his cheek, stroking his skin through his pores. He swipes it right away, shaking his head and taking his fork again. “So I didn't have to bury him, yeah.”   
Taeil can’t imagine what this boy went through. He doesn’t have to ask to know that he has been through the same with his mother, years before, when he was just a little kid. And now, losing his father like that… Taeil almost feels lucky for not having a family, it hurts to know that one day they will all die.    
It stays quiet for a moment. None of them have nothing to say, and all they can hear is the silent murmur that grows within the food court. Every little group of humans talking about different things, in their own different universes, coexisting but not really aware of other realities. It’s just beautiful, life emanating from each one of them in a very particular way.    
But Taeyong’s head is pretty far away from there. He doesn’t care about human life, he doesn’t think it’s beautiful and all of that poetic shit. He is thinking about the humanoid in front of him, he is thinking about how easy things must be for him. Living without feeling anything surely made life bearable, being mechanical was practical and rational. It must be easy to have an empty heart and those glazed eyes.     
Taeyong envied him. Really.    
But again, why is he so sure about things he doesn’t even comprehended?    
Since they are having a sincere conversation, Taeyong decides to ask.   
“Taeil, are you capable of having feelings?”   
That is, by the way, a question that Taeil makes to himself frequently. He knows he has the perception and tact like a human, but he isn’t sure if he is programmed to have feelings as well.    
“I don’t know, sincerely.” He ponders, with a sigh, elaborating his next phrase carefully. “For having skin and human functions, I feel things like cold and warmness. I have perception, like danger, and tact, and that’s how I know you want me around or not.” He purposely arch an eyebrow, seeing Taeyong by the corner of his eyelids. “But I don’t know how far this can go. Maybe I haven’t been programmed for feelings, maybe I have. Who knows?”   
“Dad knows.” Taeyong says, smiling nostalgic as he always does when he thinks about Mr. Lee and Taeil agrees, sadly. “What about other sensations?”   
“Like what?”    
Taeyong knows exactly what he wants to know, but he makes a dramatic pause, pretending he’s thinking about examples of sensations he’s curious about. It’s a stupid curiosity, believe me, he knows. But it’s something that doesn’t come out of his head since that conversation with Yuta.    
“Ah c’mon, you can’t judge me for what I’m about to ask, is pure curiosity.” Taeyong advocates before even saying anything and Taeil feels something unquiet on the end of his stomach, like if there’s something alive inside. It’s eagerness, but nobody told him. He nods. “Do you feel things like… randiness?”    
Ah, at that time, Taeil cursed mentally his creator for making veins on his cheeks. He is a robot and he is flushing, catching Taeyong off of guard. Nobody thought this was possible, it takes blood to blush and well, Taeil doesn’t have it.   
“It’s just my systems. Whenever I am in a situation where I should feel shy, my systems warms my cheeks up. It’s a silly trick that your father used to do with a calculus an–    
“Cut it, I don’t understand about engineering.” Taeyong cut him abruptly, too anxious to wait for Taeil’s longs explanations. “Answer me.”   
“Yes.”    
Taeyong’s head feels dizzy. Oh my God, what a creepy man his father had to be to create a robot that can feel horny? Didn’t he had like an atomic bomb to create or something? And Taeil feels extremely ashamed, he wants to crawl underneath the table and hide because he isn’t sure at all of Taeyong’s thoughts about him.

But the red haired boy isn’t judging. No, that answer actually awoke more questions on his troubled mind.    
“But do you… like, did he constructed you with everything?” He can’t help it, he is ashamed to ask what he wanted to know and frustrated because he knows Taeil doesn’t understand metaphors.    
“Everything that a male human has, yes.” But Taeil did understood that metaphor itself. It’s easy to understand that most people would be intricate by his anatomy, so he was prepared for questions like that. “Everything you have, I have as well.”   
Taeyong tries to picture it. He doesn’t know why but he can’t picture Taeil having a normal penis. It’s irrational, completely, because everything on him is constructed to be similar to a human being. He just can’t, he imagines it’s silver and metallic, like a bionic penis.    
“Are you… trying to picture it, Taeyong?” Taeil interrupts his thoughts like a white lightning, as if he can actually read the other’s mind.    
“A-” He feels nervous, suddenly his ability to lie is gone and all he can do is blush. Taeil frowns, so Taeyong sighs and gives up. “I was.”   
Maybe is just his mind playing tricks again, but he can swear that the corner of Taeil’s lips are coiled up, his eyes closing in half-moon forms and the white pearls of his teeth shows up. It’s almost a laugh, and Taeyong is satisfied for the day.   
“Don’t be a weirdo, human.” He says, finishing his ice cream with a last spoonful.    


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> talk to me on [curious cat](https://curiouscat.me/taeil_ish)


	4. thank god it's friday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well....... im sorry

It’s Friday, and Taeil knows he has some alone time before Taeyong arrives. It’s the day he and Yuta go drinking soju downtown, it’s tradition and these aren’t made to be broken. 

He is glad Taeyong is finally going back to his normal life. Finally, he has been able to sleep without medicine or drugs. Of course a certain robot has to babysit and sing him to sleep, with his clear and warm voice, songs of joy and hope. Ah, and he can’t leave the room as well, because the red haired boy suddenly feels scared to be alone in the dark. But deep down, Taeyong is glad he has Taeil in his life, it’s like he doesn’t have to pretend anything anymore. He can be the chicken-hearted crybaby he has always been and Taeil will never complain, always happy to sing him to sleep.    
At least, Taeil thinks they are stepping forward in this whole “being friends” thing. They talk a lot, about the most diverse matters. They go out a lot, Taeyong pretending he’s the tour city guy and Taeil pretending he hasn’t seen it all through Google earth and being amazed by the beauty of that neon lighted city. Drawing a parallel with all the movies Taeil has seen, he thinks he can say they are friends.   
The robot is collecting his used clothes for washing and he notices that Taeyong’s room has an open door. He arches an eyebrow, that is an unusual event since Taeyong always carries the keys for his room everywhere he goes. It’s a symptom of his OCD, he gets extremely nervous when someone goes inside his room and Taeil feels bad to know this because he checked on “Taeyong’s file” in his systems.    
It is almost like an instinct for him. Every time he feels curious about something towards his owner, his first impulse is to look it up on the files that Mr. Lee downloaded on him. It’s hard for him to stop it and ask Taeyong, it’s hard not to act like a computer.    
What isn’t like an instinct, though, is his curiosity. He is fully capable of ignoring the open door and proceed with his tasks, but he doesn’t want to. He tosses the dirty clothes on the floor and scans the lowers levels of the house searching for signs of life; when his radar can’t detect anything he just crosses the corridor. His hand grabs the door knob and pulls it opened, allowing his thin body to come inside.   
If there is anything cleaner than the house itself, this thing is Taeyong’s room. Taeil can smell a scent he identified as being Febreze clouding the air, all the little decorations perfect aligned with each other, everything in its right place. The bedspread has no folds, as if it is industrially produced covering the bed, the tripod holding a canvas with an unfinished painting standing exactly at 30° degrees from the bed’s feet. It feels almost as Taeyong is the robot.    
He takes his time to analyze Taeyong’s place. It is equipped with dark gray walls and it has almost an absence of furniture. The queen sized bed follows the color pallet, its bedspread alternating layers of black and white. Some black and white photographs decorates the walls, four of them making a perfect square, showing a younger Taeyong with both his parents on a really long shore, some sunflowers against the sunlight, bicycles leaning on a palm tree and the last one showed some really heavy clouds. Taeil assumed Taeyong himself took those.   
There is a bureau leaning against the opposite wall, underneath a big window, where some of Taeyong’s papers from college stayed. Taeil reaches it, his curious eyes wandering through each one of the materials over there.    
His room seems so antique, so not this decade. He doesn’t even have a television there, it seemed like Taeil opened a door for the 1990’s. There is a black notebook laying around and Taeil smiles. He is probably one of the last humans to still own a notebook. The robot takes it on his own hands, holding the hard cover and leafing through it until the last page.    
It is only when he starts to read it that he realizes this black notebook is, in fact, Taeyong’s diary. And instead of acting like a decent person and tossing it aside, Taeil shrugs, pulling the bench underneath the bureau and sitting. He sees no harm in reading it, it’s not like Taeyong can hide much from him anyway, he knew that if he asked, the human would tell him anything he wanted to know.    
But listen, he should’ve stopped reading. He really should, because he was about to discover that he, actually, was programmed to have feelings.    
His eyes narrows once he reads his name written on it. Taeyong was writing about him, complaining about his robotic personality, wishing and begging for Taeil to become a real human. Taeyong felt so lonely every time he told a joke and Taeil didn’t laugh, every time he started to babble about science and technology, every time he used his “weird robot abilities” like cutting vegetables with his fingers and talking with no rhythm. He felt lonely that his only friend was a robot, he felt bad for liking it so much.    
And Taeil feels something that isn’t perception or tact. He feels like his rib cage is fully opened before being shut down, while he is awake, watching everything. He suddenly doesn’t feel like completing his tasks of the day, or spending time with Taeyong once he comes around, or watching the Harry Potter movies he likes so much. He doesn’t want to do anything, just sit around his room on sentinel mode until this odd sensation goes away.    
He feels betrayed, it seems to him that Taeyong had been pretending to be his friend this whole time just to complain about his manners to this stupid and old notebook.    
He is sad, he is feeling things.   
With a sigh, Taeil replaces the thing back to its perfect position and leaves the room. A human would be so wounded right now, he knows from his ethics and etiquette program that the posture a human would follow would be leave and never come back again. He knows a human would be acting sarcastic and shady, he knows that this situation would be culture broth for an argument. He just doesn’t understand why Taeyong would want him to act like that, so stubborn and selfish, he couldn’t understand why it was such a problem for him to be what he is: a robot.

He sits on his own bed. He doesn’t sleep, it’s a human necessity that Mr. Lee didn’t implanted on his perfect human-machine invention, but Taeyong insisted on giving him a place to lay down. And he loves it, he likes the soft sensation and the smell of something he calls home, it’s one of those things he can’t describe and learned how to appreciate quietly. He has come to the acknowledgement that not all things need to be analyzed and labeled, they are what they are.    
But right now, his bed feels like desolation and misery. And he’s not even sure what those two things really feel like, but it’s like black hole is growing on the left side of his chest, it looks like the end of the world. All he wanted was to be Taeyong’s friend, he never meant to make him more lonely. But he doesn’t know what to do, why couldn’t Taeyong accept him as he is?    
Why does he feel this urgent will of change? Why does he suddenly want to be a human?   
His weighting is interrupted by the sudden and loud noise of the front door being opened. Abruptly, wide open, he can hear multiple voices, laughs and music. He’s confused, it’s a behavior standard he does not recognize as being Taeyong’s. He sighs, even if he doesn’t want to, it’s his duty to go downstairs and check on whatever situation is going on.    
What he finds is definitely out of every pattern. He can clearly see that Taeyong is drunk, but not only that: the house is full of people he does not recognize/are not on his files. The only familiar face is Yuta and he is way too busy swallowing a blonde guy’s tongue. There must be around twenty different people, no distinctions between male and females, and they have no governance at all, opening the doors from the cupboard and using Taeyong’s expensive crockery for drinking cheap wine and some other illicit liquid Taeil does not recognize.   
And Taeyong is just sitting there, with a goofy face on, observing everything and doing nothing. Taeil huffs, his muffled steps are quick until he reaches the couch, bending over so he can look the other guy in the eyes.   
“Taeyong, what is all this?” He asks, frowning.    
The red haired guy slowly focus his attention on the bot, his eyes seemed far, not glimmering as they often do. He smiles lethargic, shrugging.   
“It’s a party” He simply answers, turning his face away again. “Enjoy yourself, Wall-e”   
“I know it’s a party, I’ve realized it.” Taeil wants to slap him really hard on the face. Why is he being such an asshole? “I just don’t understand, all these people are going to get your house dirty and yo–   
“Sometimes we humans need a little fuss to get everything back at its place. Don’t worry, I’ll be glad to clean it all in the morning.” He cuts Taeil off, still answering patiently, even when he just wants to stay quiet and alone watching as his friends destroy his living room.    
“Taeyong, are you feeling fine?” The robot tries to reach out for his forehead, to check his temperature, but Taeyong roughly pushes his hand back. “I’m sure this is just an effect of the mourning. We need to get everybody out now.”   
Taeyong takes a deep breath. He’s trying his best to avoid screaming with Taeil, but he won’t shut up.   
“Taeil, listen up.” He starts, two fingers supporting the weight of his head by his temples. “It’s a party that I am throwing, so this means I want this party to happen, right?”    
“But–”   
“No, no ‘but’.” Taeyong shakes his head. “Why can’t you stop being a pain in the ass? Why do you have to be so weird? Parties are cool, humans do them all the time.” He diverges his gaze, looking anywhere but in Taeil’s eyes and his tone sounds like he is deeply hurt. “Why can’t you be human?”    
Well, if Taeyong wanted Taeil to act like a human, he would start now. By leaving him alone with the mess he made.    


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DON'T HATE ME EVERYONE but yall are probably gonna suffer to find out what happened until january 17th <3   
> i love yall, have a merry christmas and a happy new year


	5. ventricle and atrium

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello hello hello  
> i’m back!! let’s feed this starving nation   
> this is a cute chapter as an apologize for the last one

When he wakes up on the next morning, everything seems oddly normal.    
Despite the hangover that makes his head throb with the bare signal of the minimum noise – and even that is normal for the amount he drank —, everything seems strangely on its right place.   
He goes downstairs and finds his living room perfectly clean, as if it has been cleaned by himself. Some waffles and toppings are waiting for him in the kitchen counter and the smell of febreze defiling the air.    
Except there is not a friendly robot waiting for him sitting on the couch. This morning, he is having breakfast alone.   
And it is okay, sincerely. He hadn’t drink that much to forget what he said and he knows that, even if Taeil is incapable of having feelings, he must be upset. Taeyong was a total jerk.    
Taeyong takes a deep breath and sits by the balcony. The waffles don’t taste the same when they were prepared under Taeil’s rabid hands, he can feel the ressentiment in every bit his bitter teeth take in. 

He feels like a complete ogre. Another sigh and he wishes he could have opened himself up about his feeling towards the robot, explained that it hurts because he likes Taeil. It hurts because it’s not natural.

He knows he read his journal. What he doesn’t know, therefore, is where his  _ friend  _ is at. He knows, too, that Taeil can easily find his way back home, but there is a sting inside his chest poking him deeply as it tells him “Hey! He is so upset that he didn’t even warn you were he was going! You’re an idiot and you’re gonna die alone!” 

It is fine. He deserves to feel those things.

Taeyong stumbles on his feet and leaves the balcony. The dishes could stay dirty for a bit longer, he was disgusted and depressed enough to bare the disorder. He doesn’t want to feel alone, he wants to lay his head on Taeil’s rich thighs and fall asleep feeling his fingers running through his red hair.

He sighs, he would try to stop thinking about him for a moment. 

The truth is that he is extremely worried. To him, Taeil is almost like a little boy. A super intelligent and naive little boy. He is afraid somebody could take advantage of the robot. 

He scrambles up the stairs, feet dragging past his roommate’s room, standing in front of his father's old office. There is still so many things he does not understand, so many mysterious questions and he is not sure he wants to know about it all, but he surely feels frightened, like a lost puppy he still is.

That dark wooden door has been closed since his father has left. And he was never even curious to know what is inside, but apparently, on this day, there is a itch that allures him and says he can find out something useful about the boy with whom he was dividing the house and a little more on the lasts weeks. He rolls her eyes, it is not as if he is invading his father's privacy. Mr. Lee is dead and he needs to stop thinking about the older man's feelings, he needs to make his hand move and unlock the door.

When he finally does, he finds a disappointing scenario. He knows that Janine has been there, he had given her permission to take some boxes with old files about the company that had not yet been transferred to the digital media and some gadgets he used to keep there, but there is still one. A black box with a red stripe around it, a label with the number 127 identifying it, resting on the waxwork and oak wood, seems to have been purposely left there for him to find.

He approaches, the curious eyes trying to peek at the contents before he even reached them, the eager hands holding one of the first files so he can read. Among the nonsense about engineering and physics, he understands something:

"The prototype aimed to produce an artificial intelligence droid that could help my son overcome the traumatic event of my death, but something went wrong. Project 127 developed affection for me, it possessed feelings. "

Taeyong's mind seems to dance around that stretch, the little part that interested him more than anything in that world.  _ He _ has feelings.

How could that be? The technology is incredible, of course, his father was able to build tissues exactly the same with the skin, with the same consistency and appearance. But feelings are something his mind can not find plausible explanations. It feels like magic, too unreal for him to believe.

His hands falters, tossing the file sloppily back into the box, his feet taking small steps back to the door. Taeyong feels as if his mind was combusting, what evil engineering had his father invented to give a machine feelings?  _ He _ had no brain, he knows that the boy's head is full of wires and systems and nothing more, there are no synapses and no limbic system so that Taeil could show feelings.

He needs to sit for a moment. The black leather armchair will do, he thinks and throws his back against the upholstery, twisting it on its axis so he can observe the garden outside the glass windows. Every time Taeyong finds something new about Taeil existence, he feels like he didn’t know his dad at all.

How could him build a whole  _ human  _ on his basement and he didn’t even suspect it? Was he blind? Where was him when it all happened?

And how is he going to deal with his relationship with Taeil now that he knows about  _ feelings _ ? 

He sighs, his eyes tired and frightened, but at least his heart is back to normal. The eyes wanders through the large glass walls, watching the garden carefully, but not really seeing it. It is as if the irises could only focus on the fact that Taeyong had been a complete son-of-a-bitch to the other, acting without thinking about the consequences of his actions, only for his own benefit. He can not imagine the size of the damage his hard words, written in a journal, had caused the robot.

But if Mr. Lee taught him anything, it was not to regret the past. He stuffs the briefcases into the black box again, the upright posture of someone who is determined to take action, his feet tracing the route out of the house quickly, not caring to change the clothes he had worn longer than recommended. He presses the beige-blue knit against the thin trunk, shielding himself from the wind, his dark-colored slippers trotting against the wet asphalt of the morning dew towards God knows where.

He had hopes Taeil was around, but he has to walk a good forty minutes until his knees complains and he is practically forced to lean against the brick wall of the Police Academy. His panting makes his vision blurred, but when he looks up to the other side of the street, he sees  _ him _ . Standing on his back, watching as a machine confectioned hundreds and thousands of cupcakes at once, the barrel where the frosting was modeled spinning perfectly, creating a perfect design. Taeyong takes a deep breath and regains his posture, rolling his eyes slightly because he feels stupid for not thinking of looking  _ there _ before anywhere else.

It is his favorite candy shop, and it is obvious Taeil knew that. He knows everything.

He crosses the street carefully, approaching cautiously. He is not sure about the robot's reaction, now that he knows he possesses feelings he has to be careful and stop acting like an idiot. His long fingers press lightly against the slender shoulder of the lower one, who does not have to look to know who it is.

He says nothing.

"Hey, Wall-e..." He thinks that trying to appeal to the emotional - now that he knows it existed - it’s a good strategy. "You disappeared, I was worried..."

"Why, Mr. Lee? GPS is an old technology, even humans have it." The robot seems a little irritated by the boy's presence there, and Taeyong concludes that he really is. He does not know how to disguise feelings, he does not know how to be disguised. The boy is too pure for this, he simply acted according to his own truth. "I can find the way back home."

"It was weird not to find you in the morning, that's all." The taller boy hugs his own trunk, not knowing if the chill he feels is to guilt on the frontal system that crossed the city at that time of the month or if it comes from the behavior of the robot. "Let's go home,  _ canned head _ . It’s cold here."

Taeil stands still for a few seconds. Everything seemed so clear now, so simple. He was fed up with all this nonsense of the humans having all those complications in his chest every time something did not live up to their expectations.

"I can teach you to turn me off, Taeyong." He turns on his heels, staring into the human's eyes for the first time in the day. The other immediately knows that something had changed, the robotic speech seems so soft, almost as if he is holding back his tears.

Taeyong shakes his head, the Cancer heart that had already clung to the artificial kid looks like it is going to explode just with the idea... He tried, yes, to turn off the robot and would not deny it, but that is a possibility that passes away from his head now.

"No, Taeil, I do not want this." This time it is his voice that leaves his vocal cords clenched, eyes teary as he tries so hard to keep it dry. "I know you read those horrible things in my diary but the situation is not quite like this anymore..."

"I can’t understand it." And he really can’t, it is not drama. His arched eyebrows show the impending confusion that floods the humanoid systems. "You write that I make you feel strange, that I am bizarre, that you wanted to never have connected me but you do not want to disconnect me? How does it work?"

"Feelings are complicated, aren’t they?" Taeyong smiles sadly, if the robot were gone, he would miss having to explain the obvious every time. "You should understand."

And he shrugs, his eyes watering, shifting from the male figure slightly lower than him to observe the work that that robotic machine did with the cupcakes in front of him. He still remembers when the sweets were confeited by human hands, not long before he became a teenager.

"The machines were invented to facilitate human life, to perform functions that humans do not want to accomplish." Taeyong begins, his eyes fixed on the circular motions the cupcake made at its base, ending completely covered in light green frosting. "And I felt bad when I realized that your job was to make me feel less lonely, that I was so unable to keep friends that my father built you so I would not vegetate alone."

Taeil watches him, his shoulders lined up in the same parallel, and his eyes following every movement the boy's brown corneas made as he watched the glacial dance.

"But I understood there's nothing wrong with having a little help from time to time." He smiles, this time truly a smile, shrugging and turning to face the robot again. "I understand that if I want your friendship, I can not force you to be someone you are not. I tried this and you ran away, I don’t want to go through that again. "

This would be the perfect time for a beautiful smile to take Taeil's fleshy lips, but Taeyong decided to stop waiting for these things to happen. He is determined to accept his robotic personality and annoyingly clueless, he is determined to be doomed to have to explain every ironic phrase the robot heard around. And it is all right.

But life likes to play with our mind and our expectations, even when theoretically and it plays with objects that at first have no life. The robot boy rolls his eyes, seconds after hearing Taeyong's phrase, and pulls his lips to the sides, opening a smile that actually craves a hole in the middle of the taller boy's chest.

He feels his knees weaken. It is almost like the smile of an angel.

And Taeil stops smiling instantly. A worried feature takes the perfectly constructed wrinkles on his forehead, his sensors detecting an anomaly in Taeyong's heartbeat, and that is no time to stand around and smile.

What Taeil doesn’t know yet is that the acceleration of that curious organ, made exclusively of muscles whose purpose was to pump blood, is a symptom of passion.


	6. taeil is afraid of roller coasters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this may or may not be the cutest and fluffiest chapter of this work  
> anyways, enjoy a moment without suffering

Perhaps there is some philosophical or psychological explanation for the fascination of humans with carousels. No matter the age, the moment, the physical condition or the class, humans always visited the carousels.

And Taeil honestly can’t understand. It is a dull toy, full of fanciful, ugly horses that whirled around until it made them dizzy and dizzy. There is no adrenaline, no emotion, just the incomprehensible fetish to spin around the shaft. The technology is advanced enough for an amusement park to have access to a high-performance spacecraft that projects customers out of the planet's orbit in the blink of an eye, but even then, the most crowded toy in that recreational environment would be the damn carousel.

Not only that environment. In Paris, the most photographed touristic spot after the Eiffel Tower is a damn carousel. In New York, lobbyists and owners of large construction companies invested in carousels to value tourism. In Chicago, a carousel of 60 meters. And as they go around and around the same axis, Taeyong sketches one of the most beautiful smiles the robot had ever seen, simply unique and splendid.

Perhaps it is worth it to put up with the tedium of sitting on that child's horse.

"Come on, Wall-e!" Yells the red-haired boy with that same smile on his face as he weaves his fingers in the robotics and forces the other to walk faster. "I don’t want to take the queue for the roller coaster!"

Ah yes, the roller coaster.

Taeil's eyes rise to the confused metallic structure that stretches across the park, mimicking the engineering of an old train line, still using the old two-wheel mechanism. Taeil knows that that is not one of the big ones, but he feels something twisting in his stomach as his eyes focus on the first looping. Not that he thinks he’ll fall, he knows that the speed of the cart was too fast for gravity to act and that he’ll be trapped by a safety device, but he is not at all anxious to discover the feeling of being upside down like that so violently.

He sighs, there is not much he can deny when Taeyong smiles like that and he feels stupid. He had already searched every possible layer of the internet for smiles that could be as... magical as that. It is almost as if Taeyong's life is perfect, as if nothing disturbed his thoughts, as if he were the happiest boy in the galaxy and Taeil likes to think he is. He likes to watch the image engraved on his hard disk, he likes to count the wrinkles formed on the edges of the eyes that narrowed, the plump lips that become extremely thin when stretched in that smile, the tips of the canines brushing the lower lip… Taeil likes everything. He rolls his eyes and walks faster, but he can’t help the grimace when Taeyong jumps for joy.

"Let's make a bet." Taeyong's voice sounds extremely loud in his ears, like the boy was talking with his mouth against his lobe. Taeil nods, motioning for him to continue. "If you scream, I win. If you find it boring, you win. What do you think?"

"I like it when humans do stupid things like that." The robot retorts. Since the day they had a little discussion at Taeyong's party, Taeil had been acting more relaxed, borrowing some customs from his owner and Yuta. The sarcasm is becoming unbearable, nevertheless, Taeyong certainly had to drift him apart from the Japanese. "Even though it's obvious that I'm going to win, I accept. What are we going to bet? "

"Hmm..." Taeyong murmures, looking around, searching for something shameful enough that he would regret it if he lost. He smiles wryly when he catches sight of a small red metal structure, where, in front of it, stands a line with some losers that he recognizes from the university. "Whoever loses has to stay half an hour in the kissing booth."

The taller boy points with his chin towards the said one and the robot twists on his heels to watch. At that moment, it is a tall girl with dark hair who is in charge of distributing kisses, costing only 1 unit. Taeil thinks that maybe he should feel desire, maybe he should feel like kissing that girl, since she is cute and all. But he feels a phenomenal emptiness, only filled with the unsettling sensation that makes his body vibrate with excitement as he imagines Taeyong sitting there, having to kiss a bunch of strangers.

"I'm in! But let's be fair, an hour at the kiss booth. "

Taeyong closes his eyes, holding out his hand immediately.

"Get ready to kiss some frogs, robot."

It is sad, honestly, that Taeyong wins that easily. But Taeil knew he was going to deliver a deplorable scene for his colleague on a tray. It was completely irrational, but he could not prevent his system to drive into a crisis as soon as the roller coaster cart approached the climb that premeditated the damn looping and his vocal cords produced a shrill scream, his hands loose from the chest protection to search for Taeyong’s, his eyes closed tightly and he wanted to get out of there as quickly as possible.

Taeyong, like the Cancerian he is, made sure the robot was really fine and safe, before allowing the laughter to take on his features. He could not even pay attention to the adrenaline that the tour should provide, all he could do was laugh louder and louder, until small droplets were formed in the tear ducts.

"Stop chuckling, that's cruelty." Taeil demands as soon as his feet steadies steadily on the ground after abandoning the stand. He folds his arms under his chest and stares at Taeyong's laughing face until the other is reassembled. "I did not know I could be afraid, you're not funny at all."

"Ahh, come on, Wall-e," Taeyong responds, wrapping one arm around Taeil's shoulders, guiding him toward the kiss tent. "Are you going to say that it's not funny to see a robot having an outbreak on a roller coaster? It's a machine, just like you. "

Taeil rolls his eyes and walks sulkily the rest of the way. But the frown is only for charm, because everything in that afternoon, even the disastrous ride on the roller coaster, is perfect. And he can be stubborn as he is and hesitate about the most useless matters possible, he can’t deny that his tin heart is floating by simply ... living that moment.

He has to wait while Taeyong talks to the girl in the kiss tent. Taeil had learned that there weren’t many things he can’t do; he is a stupidly handsome, and, most importantly,  _ rich _ guy. He watches as the redhead rolls his eyes, tucks his fist into the pockets of his light-washed denim, and pulls out a money roll, handing it to the girl's hand. As she turns her back, Taeyong nods, motioning for the robot to approach.

"Will you scream like a scared little boy when a beautiful girl comes to kiss you?" Taeyong attacks him, opening the door to the booth entrance and allowing his lowest friend to come on in.

"Will you ever get tired of embarrassing me?" Taeil asks, waiting until Taeyong comes around the tent and positions himself facing him on the other side of the counter, separating client and service provider. "This is almost prostitution here, humans are sick."

Taeyong can’t help but laugh, then folds his arms above the counter and flexes his body so he can rest his legs a little. He watches Taeil's serene facade; he doesn’t look scared this time, but he is very good at controlling his emotions, so the redhead almost never knows how to unravel him.

"Well, I'm going to the other side of the park and keep an eye on the pecks you're going to give. This is going to be hilarious," he says, standing up again before thrusting his hand into his pocket for the second time. He pulls out a transparent glass with a white package, which Taeil can’t identify, and throws it into the air. "Squeeze it in your mouth, it will leave you with good breath."

With a wink, he turns.

But he doesn’t go too far,  for Taeil's plump fingers grips his jacket, making him return to his starting position. This time, Taeil's eyes seems frantic, focusing on several places very quickly, lips parted as he looks for words.

"Actually ... I don’t want you to go," Taeil says, staring at his badly cut nails. Yes, his nails grows, as does yours and mine and yes, when Taeyong found out he was scared as hell. Taeyong's eyebrow, gaining life, arched. "I’ve never kissed anyone before, I don’t know how it works."

And Taeyong can’t believe it.

There he is, the man who can speak every language, who can detect heartbeats from a distance of five meters and god knows what else he can do, fearing for his first kiss. Just like a little boy, human, helpless.

And Lee's heart almost fails. He almost yells and tells him to get out of there and gives him a hug, so they can go home to watch a movie as he lays on his chubby thighs.

But he sighs, looks deep into the boy's eyes and waits.

"Well, of course I know how it is, I read it on the internet. But it seems like one of those things that we just learn by trying, you know?" He looks inside Taeyong's brown gaze for approval. "And I don’t have much time to try now, I think I'll feel safer if you're around."

And Taeyong has an idea. Damn it, Nakamoto Yuta.

"I'm going to do something that will confuse you." Taeyong announces, eyes jumping from point to point, too embarrassed to stare into Taeil's eyes. "But for now we can not argue about it, okay? I'll explain everything when we get back home. Just ... this is just to help you."

Taeil's typical doubtful facet sets in. He wants to question, but his desire to fulfill the order is greater, so he doesn’t react at all. But his eyes watch as Taeyong takes a deep breath, his pale hands leaning against the counter and his body protruding forward, invading the confines of the tent. Taeil knows what’s about to happen, he had seen that moment a million times in the romantic comedy movies he'd watched so much, but he just doesn’t know how to act. He remembers closing his eyes when the centimeters are too short to be counted, so close that Taeil can observe all the small clogged pores of the man's perfect face before his eyelids closes. His sensors feel the air around him warming up as the skin of the other approaches, feeling the hot breath blow against him.

He feels his full lips curl into his. It is just a peck, Taeyong can’t risk more than he already did, to wrap tongues would only make everything more complicated. But despite of being disappointed, Taeil likes the warmth of Taeyong and whatever the touch is, it is pleasurable and makes him happy, anesthetized.

It is a shame that Taeyong’s lips are gone just when Taeil is starting to get the taste of it.

I would lie if I said that they both see fireworks, that they feel a piece of heaven, that is is like paradise on Earth. It is simply a touch of lips, insignificant, brief, common. But Taeyong turns away quickly, he is afraid that his loneliness might confuse things and make him more attached than the recommended to the robot, so with a smile he starts to walk to the opposite sidewalk, watching the frightened face of Taeil while waiting for someone lonely enough to buy kisses.

But that time has not been as fun as Taeyong thought it would be. He feels almost guilty for the look of despair Taeil sketched each time one of those pathetic people approached and handed him an unit and he was practically obliged to seal their lips. When the clock strikes eighteen o'clock, the boy hurries to drag Taeil away from that tent and that row that only grows larger and larger. His tense shoulders lifts above the healthy level, his eyes closing with a certain irritability, and he practically hauls Taeil, who can’t keep up with the rhythm of his long legs.

He can’t even explain the reason for his emotions to be as messed up as they are. He feels bad about himself for putting the robot in that uncomfortable situation; ever since he discovered that Taeil has feelings, he endeavored to do him good, as a way of redeeming himself for the way he behaved for the first few weeks.

The truth is that Taeyong doesn’t need to redeem himself from anything. Taeil doesn’t know how to hold grudge, he feels his artificial heart warm up in the presence of the boy with a shy smile, looking like it is overheated, about to explode. It makes his hard drive erase the painful memory of the words read in that diary and the ensuing discussion, from Taeyong he just wants to keep good memories.

Nevertheless, the robot is annoyed by the disturbed state in which its owner is now.

"Hey, Taeyong," he calls, holding him by the wrist. The redhead turns, smoke is coming out of his nose, his teeth chipping the mucous on the inside of his cheeks. "What happened? Why are you so angry? "

The boy sighs, it is not like he is angry with the robot, but he sees no reason for the other to find out that, besides being completely freaked out by his obsessive cleaning disorder, he also goes hard on himself about his own behavior. Then his shoulders sag, taking a deep breath, he relaxes his expressions and shakes his head.

"Nothing, I just..." His eyes go back to the robot boy, calmer this time, watching the tenderness with which Taeil stared at him. "I didn’t want to put you in that uncomfortable situation, it was bad."

Taeil smiles. He recently learned the meaning of the adjective "fluffy" and had been using it a lot to define Taeyong in multiples situations, and he thinks the boy is not tired of giving him excuses to call him like that; he looks the cutest when apologizing for things he isn’t necessarily guilty of. He puts one of his arms around the human's shoulders, shuffling his hair and resuming their path.

"Come, I want to taste cotton candy."


	7. the other

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello!  
> is anybody still reading this? lol  
> anyways here it is, it took a little bc i had a problem with one of the characters buuuut we've made it kjskdja

"Are you really sure that it is okay for me to be here, Taeyong?"

Taeil is cutting cheese cubes when he hears a chuckle echoing from the dining room. He can’t stop himself from smiling when he pictures the wrinkles on Taeyong’s nose and his eyes half-shuting as he giggles like that, just a wall apart from him.

“Taeil, this is your house. It is always okay for you to be here.” He responds, coming to the same room as Taeil. Taeyong steals a glance of the cheese cubes from above Taeil’s shoulders, grinning proudly with its perfect shape. “Besides, Yuta is only coming over to meet you, so don’t be pressured.”

“Yeah, it’s not easy to stay chill when you talk like that.” The robot is quick to answer, piling the cubes to create a nice presentation on his snack plate. He turns to face Taeyong, hands supported on the sink. “Why did you have to create such a formal occasion? I already know Yuta.”

“You don’t know him, talking through the phone isn’t knowing someone.” Taeyong replies and steals a slice of Gorgonzola under the silent protests of the shorter; a smirk shines on the corner of his lips. “And it’s not formal, we’re just gonna watch television and drink beer. This is pretty much what you and I do.”

“No, we argue a lot too.” Taeil points out, shrugging. It’s not that he thinks Taeyong is always wrong, but he feels a weird flutter on his chest whenever he gets the chance to disagree and make him nervous. The thing is that Taeil thinks Taeyong is cute when his face is all red, and he likes cute things. “He’s arriving.”

“How would you-” Taeyong is cut by the sound of the doorbell. It’s not the first time Taeil does that, but his chin never fails to fall whenever he does it.

“Radar, baby.”  Taeil says with a cocky grin, touching the other’s chin with the tip of his fingers and walks past through him, towards the door.

It’s a warm hug that welcomes Yuta. He can’t explain why, but his arms move against his commands and Taeil engulfs Yuta on one of those hugs you feel like giving to someone you love after a hard day. And it’s even more surprising when Yuta doesn’t hesitate for more than 2 seconds and hugs him back, his whole face illuminates like a million stars as he smiles.

And Taeyong knows that it is already a friendship for life.

“We should stop hugging now, Taeyong is jealous.” It’s Yuta’s first sentence, and of course it has to mock Taeyong. It isn’t Yuta and Taeyong if one isn’t constantly mocking the other.

“I know he is. His heart race is-”

“Hey, stop reading me!” He cuts in, closing the door behind Yuta with a hollow slam. “I’m already regretting this.”

Yuta giggles and hugs his older friend, too. He doesn’t need permissions to come inside or to walk around the house, it’s partly the place where he grew older too. His perfectly neat shoes stays in the stoop, his white socks hit against the floor as he carries a package to the kitchen balcony under the curious eyes of Taeyong and Taeil, but nobody dares to move a finger to help or pronounces a word to question. They just observe while Yuta rips the brown paper that wrapped it.

With an quirked eyebrow, Taeil approaches first.

“What is it?” He questions, watching from a certain distance.

“It’s just a gift… for you.” Yuta replies after he finishes his war against the wrapping paper. Taeil’s eyes drop to the box, frowning a little bit more. “You’re gonna love it.”

“I know we joked that he’s my wife but why did you buy him a mixer?” It’s Taeyong who inquiries this time, his hand landing on Yuta’s shoulder.

“It’s not a mixer.” Taeil is flipping the box around, reading all the Japanese letters on it, his eyes sparkling with the new discoveries that he yet didn’t share. “It’s an artificial intelligence for your kitchen and-” he stops himself, his mind rewinding seconds in the past totally driving his attention away from the box. “I’m your what?”

“Really, Yuta?” Taeyong’s hands are resting on his waist, and this is a signal that he’s on _mother mood_. “Do you really think another artificial intelligence is what I need? Emphasys on the ‘another’.”

“Well, I didn’t buy it for you, so it doesn’t matter.” He shrugs and turns his attention back at Taeil, who’s still holding the box. “His name is Jungwoo.” He informs, with the brightest smile ever.

“Nice! I’ll finally have a friend.” Taeil exclaims, his eyes sparkling as he tears the box apart.

“Hey! I am your friend!” Taeyong answer with a false wrath, his lips almost pulled in a smile. He nudges Taeil’s arm jokingly. “Do you need our help to set your new toy?”

“It’s not a toy, don’t be insensitive.” Taeil brings the opened box to the kitchen counter, starting to withdraw the pieces from inside it. He looks over his shoulder and answers, words Taeyong would hear in his sleep for weeks on end: “He’s my new friend.”

Of course Taeyong doesn’t think Taeil needs anyone besides him.

But it’s no time for this discussion right now. He shuts his eyes shortly and leaves with Yuta at his feet, smug grin and everything, probably plotting the next thing he would do to take Taeyong’s peace away from him.

“So, how’s everything?” He says, from behind Taeyong’s back. There’s a hidden intention on his words, he knows that because Yuta singsongs it blandly, pretending he doesn’t want to know about specifics subjects. “How’s your life going?”

“You know I've known you for a lifetime, right?” Taeyong shoots back at him, watching him through suspicious eyes. They grab two beers in the mini fridge and leave to the living room. “You want to know about Taeil, isn’t it?”

Yuta’s expressions change from water to wine. He opens up a blinding smile, nearly falling into a contagious laughter. He slaps Taeyong’s biceps only the slightest before they can settle themselves in the upholstery of the couch. “You kissed him! You’re a naughty boy!”

There it is. The hidden meaning in Yuta’s sentence, the gossip he’s been wanting to talk about for at least a week. Taeyong sighs, in the moment he glued his lips to Taeil’s he knew Yuta would make of it a huge deal, when it wasn’t.

It was only a little kiss. A peck. A meaningless touch of lips between a friend who wanted to help the other.

He couldn’t even feel the texture of Taeil’s mouth. If their kiss matched, he won’t ever know. If his tongue is savory and shrewd was a mystery, one that secretly Taeyong would love to discover.

“It wasn’t a kiss, and how would you know that?” Taeyong inquiries. The taste of barley washes his mouth as he thinks carefully of his next words, Yuta had always had a thing for catching Taeyong for his weakness and explaining himself was definitely one of them.

“Taeil told me. He said you kissed in the kissing booth of the carnival.” When they exchange gaze, Yuta’s eyebrow is partly lifted. He is, shamelessly, doubting Taeyong’s conduct.

Taeyong rolls his eyes and takes another mouthful of his beer.

“It was just a peck.” He affirms, probably most to himself then to anybody who’s been listening to him. Yuta crosses his arms, tilting his head to the side. “I swear it was! We made a bet and he lost it so his punishment was to stay at the kissing booth for one hour. He said to me he was scared of kissing so I just showed him what he had to do, nothing much.”

“And you didn’t feel anything? Nothing? Not even the tiniest thing?”

Taeyong has to stop for a while. There’s a reason why Yuta keeps insisting on the subject, why he keeps pushing and pressing, and Taeyong knows it’s only for his own good.

He digs inside his own mind. He’s not lying to himself when he says he didn’t feel anything, because he didn’t. But does this mean he doesn’t feel anything for Taeil as well? And if it doesn’t, is it because of coexistence? Is it because of his loneliness?

He shakes his head. He doesn’t need to think about it simply because he is sure he does not feel anything for anyone. They are just friends. Period.

But it happened once before. He didn’t need anything deeper than a mere exchange of looks to fall helplessly in love with a cute boy, and worst than that, to suffer because of it for days on end without even knowing his name. So, partly, Yuta wasn’t mistaken when worrying.

But Taeyong wasn’t a naive teenager anymore.

“No, it meant nothing.” He confirms, at least, for Yuta’s disappointment. Taeyong quirks an eyebrow, suddenly curious. “Did he comment anything about feeling stuff?

“You know he can hear us. I won’t say anything about it.” Yuta replies with a cocky grin. Flashes of war crosses Taeyong’s eyes on the moment he hears it, Yuta’s about to burst into laughter with himself. He crosses both index fingers above his lips, suggesting that he won’t go further in the subject.

“Guys! Jungwoo wants to meet you!” Taeil screams from the kitchen.

Yuta and Taeyong look at each other. He can’t quite say what’s on Taeyong’s mind, but Yuta’s excited. He saw the artifice when walking through the streets of busy Tokyo last week, almost the same time as Taeyong and Taeil shared their first “kiss”, and thought it was perfect.

He knew Taeil was constructed to be Taeyong’s company, but in the same way that there would always be matters which Taeil couldn’t comprehend - mostly because he wasn’t human in technical terminologies, Taeyong couldn’t comprehend some of the artificial intelligence’s matter as well. He didn’t want neither of his two friends to be lonely.

But Taeyong is scared. He’s afraid Taeil will find out he is a useless person, get really found of the Jungwoo robot and leave him alone again. He doesn’t want to be alone never again in his life.

But even still, they wade their way back to the kitchen with their mouth shushed and their heads full of expectations. The scene they meet is Taeil, with his eyes full of joy and glow, staring amused at a weird device resting on the border of the sink. It is adorned with red details over a weirdly translucent surface, shaped in cylinder with sparkling lights as it speaks back to Taeil.

Taeil turns his neck in their direction with the brightest smile ever. He waves his hand calling them closer, and you can see by the way his cheekbones are lifted that he is completely gleeful.

“Guys, this is Jungwoo.” He enounces, stepping aside so the boys can come closer to the device.

Taeyong squints. He thought Jungwoo would be a robot with a body like Taeil is, his eyes are wandering and analyzing the translucent composition, probably thinking to himself how fucking weird it would be to live with a lava lamp that speaks and controls his kitchen. Then his gaze raises a little bit, to the tender smile shaping Taeil’s lips, and he thinks that it couldn’t be more awkward than the attachment he has with one of his machines.

Fuck it, then. Let’s be friends with all the speaking devices of the house!

“Hello?” He speaks reluctantly, one of his eyebrows lifted in distrust.

“Hello, Sir.” The device shines in gold shades when it speaks, a soft and cheerful voice filling the gaps between the bodies in the room, leaving Taeyong with googly eyes and making Yuta laugh quietly.

“T-there’s no need to call me Sir, Jungwoo.” Taeyong replies, simply, trying to seem sympathetic even when he is scared.

“I thought we were past the stutter phase.” Taeil wonders, his head slightly tilted to the side, observing Taeyong’s nervous hands as he pokes the skin on his fingers.

“He has this phase with pretty much everybody he meets.” Yuta confirms, removing his hands from his pocket to wave at Jungwoo. “Hello Jungwoo, can you see us?”

“I can scan your shapes and movements, but I don’t have cameras so no, I can’t.”

“Fuck the engineer who planned you, huh?” Yuta continues, approaching a little bit more. “Taeil, do you think we can install some cameras on him?”

“Would it be ok for you?” Taeil asks strictly to Taeyong, as if he’s reading the other’s mind, capturing the insecurities and uncertainties dancing in the ballroom of his brain. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, Taeyong.”

Taeil’s tone is serious and it takes no robot to capture that he is annoyed by Taeyong’s posture. He just knows his owner too well, he knows what he’s thinking and he thinks it’s stupid. He was brought up in this world to be his company, to be his friend, and that is what he is going to do until the day he rusts and malfunction until he is shut down. Unwittingly, Taeil crosses his arm before his chest, the tip of his foot hitting rhythmically against the marble floor, waiting for an answer, for anything.

Taeyong sighs, he doesn’t want the situation to be uncomfortable for the new machine in his collection. The problem is not with him and he has no intentions of making him feel like it is, but he is too transparent to disguise his own emotions. His arms fall loosely at his sides, shoulders relax and he tries to look more convincing when he smiles again, before he gives in.

“Of course it’s ok for me. I will go see Janine tomorrow and ask for what is necessary to do the changes.”

Taeil and Yuta high five very quickly, victory smile on their faces and glimmering eyes observing the robot-lava lamp guy.

“So tell me Jungwoo, what can you do?” Taeyong tries again, supporting his weight on the balcony just across the room.

“I basically control the utensils in your kitchen. Including the cooking robot your father gave to you.” He speaks happily, his voice is child-like.

“How do you know about it?” Taeyong inquiries, frowning.

“Taeil told me.”

“Ah…”

He wasn’t meant to feel stupid, but he could be very oblivious sometimes. Having nothing more left to say, he just pushes his body to sit on the balcony and observes quietly as Yuta and Taeil fill Jungwoo with questions of diverse natures.

He is partly happy as he watches the blooming friendship between his best friend and his robot friend. He knew since the beginning they would be a great match, but there is some unrest on the pit of his stomach about the new guest in the house.

Could Taeil ever fall in love with it? Does it have feelings too? What if they dated? Would Taeyong be obliged to stand their happiness as he quietly wishes he could have that too?

Wait.

Does he want to have a relationship? Does Taeyong want to be happy with someone?

He bites the inner side of his cheek, realizing what tricks his mind just played on him. Those are thoughts that never even wondered near his mind before, so why is he thinking about it now?

He never needed anyone but his father and Yuta. He didn’t even miss his mom. He thought he would be fine through his whole life without a companion, because he didn’t need one of those.

No, sir. He was always quite fine with the one night stands he found when the neediness was too much. Relationships are complicated and they are just one more excuse to make attachments to people who are gonna leave you sooner or later, and he is done with this feeling.

He just needs his Yuta. And his robot.

But if his robot needs a robot too, he will learn how to live with it.

He shuts his eyes shortly and takes a deep breath. _Grow up, Taeyong._ he whispers to himself, _you’re not a teenager anymore, remember? Taeil won’t leave you._

“So, Jungwoo.” He calls, finishing all the parallel conversations as all three focus on him. “Do you like music?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jungwoo is slightly inspired in Tony Stark's Jarvis hehe i hope u enjoyed it


	8. finals

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> finally, FINALLY, the problematic of the plot is being introduced hehe enjoy it

Taeyong is an intelligent guy.

He really is, one of the top of his class. Entered university with great honors and, most important, without the help of his father or his enterprise.

Of course carrying the family name gives off influence, but Taeyong refused any and every facilities his surname could give him. He took the tests and was qualified as everyone else was.

The news said otherwise, they did everything to make his little accomplish even smaller, but Taeyong didn’t care. He knew his truth and that was all that mattered. He was once compromised with being the greatest student of his year and making his father proud, so he would study every day as if he depended on it for breathing.

And it all changed after Mr. Lee died. He stopped caring about his grades, about his future. He stopped enjoying the knowledge and the little things he learned everyday. He just wanted to swallow his pills and drink his wine until someday he would choke on his vomit while he slept and never had to wake up in this world.

And it changed again. He is beginning to understand that his life doesn’t need to stop because he is alone in the world. He knows, now, that his parents are guarding and watching over him from whatever place they are and it’s enough. He needs to leave them in peace, he needs to learn how to take care of himself and be the grown up his father always wanted him to be. He decided, then, that the first step for that is graduating.

To achieve that, he had to survive through the semester. So he buried himself in his room with his notebook and notes on the lectures, finals are just around the corner and Taeyong has made his mind: he is going to retrieve his high grades.

But there is someone who is worried about him. It’s a black haired robot with nice pink lips and cat eyes, whose chin is leaning on the gap between Taeyong’s neck and shoulder. He moans and grunts and complains and pouts, but not even the bestest charm he owns is good enough to distract Taeyong from his most recent obsession.

So he gives up and chooses to speak, his chin in the same place.

“C’mon, Taeyong. I’m bored in here.” It’s a mellow voice, whining almost directly in his ears. “Let’s do something.”

“I’m busy, as you can see.” Taeyong answers without taking his eyes off of the hologram screen in front of him. “Go watch television or something and leave me, I have to study.”

“You’ve been studying nonstop for a whole week,  this isn’t healthy.” Taeil shoots back, leaning his forehead against the back of Taeyong’s head. “And I have nothing left to watch on the television.”

Taeyong sighs. He touches the device on his ear and the hologram is suddenly gone. He twists the chair to face Taeil, and they both feel like it’s been months since they haven’t seen each other’s faces.

The human one has dark circles under his eyes, probably acquired by the lack of sleep on this past week. His skin is pale and thin, the skin on his lips is peeling and he seems extremely tired.

Taeil reads his vital signs quickly. He knows he’s missing iron and vitamin D, but before his mouth can unwittingly open to scold him, he remembers this is one of the things he hates the most, so instead he just bite on the tip of his lower lip and keep quiet.

“What about Jungwoo? Did you finish with him?” Taeyong says, fingers pressing the temples, probably trying to ease the symptoms of a headache.

“Not yet, I need that screwdriver you promised you would ask Janine.” Taeil replies, keeping the technical details to himself, even if his tongue itches to speak.

“This is what you can do, then!” Taeyong claps thunderous, a fake smile pairing his lips is the only thing Taeil sees before he twists his chair again and gets back to his hologram. “Go talk to Janine. You can even bring Jungwoo with you so he can get to know the city.”

Taeil nods. He feels a weird unrest poking his chest and his eyes want to water, but he won’t let. Another bite on the tip of his lip to keep his thoughts on the track is necessary, this time his hands are nervously twining and he feels a weird obstruction on his throat.

As if he wanted to say something but couldn’t. Like a fur ball stuck in his mouth.

He takes a deep breath. He won’t dare touching Taeyong again, Taeil isn’t very found of clinginess and he’s not sure about Taeyong’s emotions right now. He couldn’t read them when he was not looking at Taeil, not when he couldn’t meet Taeyong’s eyes. It is wiser to keep his distance.

But he promised he wouldn’t be cruel again, so Taeil needs to ask.

“Do you… want to get rid of me, Sir?” He says _Sir_ purposely. To put himself in his place, to remind him that he is just a service provider who doesn’t win no wage at the end of the month and that they are, even after everything that’s happened, human and robot. Because he needed to speak that word so he would know how truth it is. How distant from being close to Taeyong he really is.

When Taeyong didn’t complain about the treatment he gulped, fur ball going down and everything.

He got up, head low, extremely upset about the fact that he was correct. He doesn’t know why, but he wants Taeyong to reach for his shoulder and tell him, once again, to not call him like that. To tell him he just needs to focus, that he secretly wants to be with Taeil just as much as Taeil wants to be with Taeyong.

But what he earns is a sigh, blowing loudly from behind his back.

“It’s not that I want to get rid of you, Taeil.” Taeyong speaks out of nowhere, when Taeil is about to reach the door knob. “I just really need to focus for this test, do you understand it?”

Taeil turns quickly on his heels, hope glowing on his eyes.

“Yes, of course I do.” He responds, stepping closer again. “But do you understand it’s unhealthy to study as hard as this? You’ve been stuck in this room for 168 hours straight, you didn’t even came down for meals and I am pretty sure, for the smell of this room, that you haven’t bathed too.” Taeyong took a deep breath. He already knows now that he can do nothing but listen to Taeil’s eternal speech about his well known unhealthy habits when it comes to studying. Taeyong rolls his eyes. “I’m not gonna waste my time on this but you know this is not you. At least go down for a walk or take a shower.”

Unexpectedly, Taeil stops talking. He turns his back again, this time his footsteps are quicker. He’s tired of being treated like that, to feel like his worries are annoyances, that his caring is unwanted. He doesn’t understands why Taeyong is acting so cold and withdraw like that, but it doesn’t matter. He’s done with being comprehensive and getting himself hurt; if Taeyong wants to screw with his health, fine. Taeil isn’t going to worry anymore.

“Where are you going?” Taeyong asks with a quirked eyebrow when Taeil is about to leave through the door.

Taeil stops but he doesn’t turn this time. His hand opens the door knob quickly, taking a deep breath.

“Taking Jungwoo for a walk. Isn’t it what you told me to do, _Sir?_ ”

—

“You may have a body but I am way more sensitive than you, Taeil.”

They are walking past the busy avenue that connects the residential district to the tax free zone where the companies are located. The neon lights and flashing headlights doesn’t disturb Taeil’s eyes anymore, as he gets more and more found of being alone in that huge city.

“What are you even talking about, Jungwoo?” He asks, tilting his head a little and stealing a glance at the device in his pocket. He managed to transfer Jungwoo’s operating system to a portable device this morning, after he awkwardly got upset with Taeyong, and they are now on their way to meet with Janine and finally get the screwdriver they need. “I thought we were still talking about architecture.”

“This subject is boring, I can’t see the buildings we are talking about.” Jungwoo replies. Taeil also managed to program the device in which Jungwoo is in to speak directly to his sound system; therefore, nobody but them can hear what they are talking about. “Let’s talk about how in love you are with Taeyong.”

Taeil stops walking. He feels like his head is spinning and his system is overheating. His eyes are bulging, hands seem to sweat and legs shake.

He doesn’t know what is happening or how to stop it from happening. He opens his mouth several times, tries to deny it or change the subject, but his own mind is overflowing with that information.

Because he thought about it some while ago, but it seems way more real when it is voiced by someone else. It seems way more serious when it’s not just a loose reverie on his motherboard, it makes him feel like he’s been being too obvious about that unknown feeling he has been holding inside himself.

“You’re not sensitive, you’re delusional.” He finally speaks, but the delay is noticed by the other artificial intelligence as an affirmation to his theories. “Taeyong is nothing but my owner to me, I respect him.”

“Yeah yeah, and he’s in love with you, too.” Jungwoo ignores all the lies and bullshit coming out of Taeil’s system to keep feeding his imaginary romance. He laughs a little about the thought and continues: “I wonder why both of you can’t see it.”

“Do you mind to explain it?” Taeil asks, a weird interest growing in the pit of his stomach.

They turn left after the third block and enter the company’s building. Janine knows they are coming, so the security just lets them pass with no further questions.

“Why do you think he was so affected when I arrived?” If Jungwoo had eyebrows, he would surely quirk one of them. “He was jealous. He thought he’d lose you.”

“He can be insecure sometimes, that doesn’t mean anything.” Taeil presses the button on the elevator. They need to climb until the last floor, where Janine’s office is located in. “Taeyong’s been through a lot.”

“I can tell he’s in love with you just by the way he changes his voice tone to speak with you.” Taeil didn’t understand why Janine insisted to meet them in the office. She could’ve just let the screwdriver in the reception, for as far as he knows he has nothing to talk about with her. But after a tiring discussion about human manners with Jungwoo, he let himself get convinced that she was just being nice with them. The elevator took a little to arrive, but it wasn’t long until they were walking through the carpeted floor of the last level of the building. “You can read his vital signs too, tell me I’m lying but you know his heart races when he sees you.”

“Maybe he’s just not used with me around the house yet.” Taeil shrugs. He doesn’t want to think about the possibility, because if there is one he will allow himself to drown in that feeling he can’t quite understand and he is not sure if he wants to. “Enough with this subject. We’re meeting Janine now.”

The hallways are large and long, all of them filled with isles where engineers and professionals of all types work very hard to keep improving the technology that Mr. Lee left behind. Taeil’s eyes capture every type of invention, things he can’t quite understand or explain to Jungwoo, so he just keeps quiet until his walk to the edge of the corridor is done.

He is told by the secretary to wait a little bit, Mrs. Janine is getting ready to meet him, but she doesn’t take long before she appears in the giant glass doors with her perfect haircut and appropriate shade of lipstick.

Taeil decides he doesn’t like the fact that he can’t find no flaws in her, she almost doesn’t seem human. But he smiles anyway, and shakes her hand before he can walk inside her office.

“So, Taeil.” She starts, pouring a bit of coffee in a fancy china for him. “You told me you needed a very specific type of screwdriver, right? Why do you need it?”

“Me and Taeyong are installing cameras on his new artificial intelligent robot. I need the screwdriver because the camera is produced by Lee companies and it can only be opened with that specific screwdriver.” He answers quick. The quicker he gets what he wants he can leave the presence of this bizarre woman behind.

“Oh? He has a new artificial intelligent robot?” She leans on her table and folds her hands on the front of her body. She’s frowning, definitely interested in that fact she yet didn’t know.  “He didn’t say anything about it.”

“It was a gift from Yuta. It’s an AI that controls his kitchen.” Taeil explains, naively taking the device in which Jungwoo is in out of his pocket. “His system is here. This is Jungwoo.”

She approaches, heels clicking against the granite floor, and takes a superficial look on the tiny and skinny device Taeil is holding.

After analyzing Jungwoo for a while, she withdraws and smiles a creepily perfect smile, taking steps back to her table.

“I think this is a trap.” Jungwoo whispers on Taeil’s sound system, all of his danger signs are ignited when she starts to type something Taeil can’t decipher in the hologram screen above the table. “Do you feel it?”

“Yeah.” Taeil answers, covertly glancing at the doors, trying to calculate escape routes from her office and the building. “What do we do?”

“Send a message do Taeyong, warn him.” Jungwoo’s voice sounds scared when she turns to them again, creepy smile going from ear to ear. “We’re not coming back home soon.”

“I just asked someone to bring the screwdriver for us.” She says, before a strong light flashes and everything falls into blackness.


	9. stop baby don’t stop

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sooo  
> taeyong gets sad & drunk, nothing new in this history

It’s been two days since Taeil and Jungwoo left home in search for the damn screwdriver.

It’s been two days since Taeyong won’t close his eyes or stop dialing Taeil’s number. It has also been two days since he can’t stop himself from feeling guilty.

Besides knowing Taeil isn’t just any helpless little boy, he feels terrible for letting him go out like that. He was nervous and hectic, probably wasn’t paying attention to the dangers that surround us when we go out in the street.

What if he was kidnapped? What if he was dead?

And the worst part of it all is that he let Jungwoo go together. Just when he was starting to get attached to his giggles and lovely sing song voice, he disappears. Leaving Taeyong alone and definitely having no clues about what to do next.

He probably called Yuta for news ten times in the past hour. He called Janine’s office as well, but nobody in the building seems to have seen them in the last week.

He is starting to believe Taeil left him like that on purpose. That he took Jungwoo to a remote place, where they couldn’t be tracked down neither be found. That he wanted peace from all the drama Taeyong brought to his life.

It hurts him inside, but at this point he is so familiarized with abandonment that he doesn’t care. He takes a sip of his glass of wine and stares at the front door, waiting for it to open, waiting for his blinding smile to cross it telling him all the exciting things he did in this two days he’s been missing.

But it doesn’t happen. It doesn’t matter how hard he wishes for it, how hard he prays for it, Taeil and Jungwoo just won’t come back.

He takes the last sip of his fine wine and gets up from the couch. There’s some mellow sad song from the beginning of the 21st century playing on the sound system of the house, he can’t quite remember the name of the singer, but she sounds just as sad and agonized as him so he figures it is appropriate for the moment and lets her sing as he slips inside his leather jacket and sneakers. 

He’s done feeling guilty and sad for things he can’t control. Taeil wanted to disappear dramatically? Fine. Taeyong isn’t going to give the minimal fuck about it anymore.

He grabs the bottle of wine in the kitchen and leaves the house. He no longer wants to be an outsider of his own life, he doesn’t want to wait for things to happen, to depend on people’s will to stay with him in order to stop feeling lonely. From this day on, Taeyong is going to make sure his own company is enough.

But the main problem is that Taeyong hasn’t noticed yet what his connection with Taeil is. He never stopped to think about his own feelings, because Taeyong is sure he is incapable of sharing sentiments with someone. He is a hundred percent sure the scars from being so young and having no one are so deep that they wounded the part of his brain that cultivates love. He never stopped and asked himself what is it that he feels for Taeil - because he knows he feels something, because he thinks it is impossible for him to be anything but attached to the robot. He never tried to understand why his heart raced whenever Taeil slightly touched him, or what was the reason behind his sudden loss of words whenever Taeil’s cheeks grow blushed. 

He just thought it was normal, but as soon as his feet take him inside a nightclub he feels like it is not normal.

He looks around, his eyes sweeping the dance floor and the bar, trying to find someone, something, interesting enough to keep his mind away from Taeil. Long chubby fingers, dark hair and strong jawline are things that catches his attention, and he sees himself struggling between the ocean of bodies to grab a drink at the bar. 

He’s gonna need courage to admit to himself that he’s just looking for Taeil in other’s appearance. Maybe a shot of tequila would do him well.

It’s not that he’s jealous, but maybe Taeil and Jungwoo are happily cuddling in some lost island right now. A chuckle escapes his throat once he realizes that that is impossible — of course it is! Jungwoo doesn’t have a body. But that wouldn’t stop Taeil from falling in love with him, he’s so much deeper than appearances and having a body means nothing to him. Taeyong knows it. And he’s scared of it, because Taeyong isn’t deep, not an inch deep.

Another shot burns his stomach, his eyes water and he bites his lips. His vision is starting to get blurry, hands starts to sweat and the repetitive boring EDM doesn’t seem so hateful anymore. 

But not even the loud beat can stop Taeyong’s mind to orbit around Taeil’s smile. He would die and kill to see it again, now, as he crosses the dancefloor, slowly walking in his direction. He would sit by his side and say some useless curiosity about dance clubs or alcohol or music, and Taeyong would laugh and contemplate to himself. He would reach the conclusion that Taeil is perfect, that he is the most beautiful creature he’d ever seen in his life. He would silently thank God for giving him eyes to see it, and his father for creating the best thing that ever happened to him.

He hits his forehead against the wood of balcony. Why can’t he say those nice stuff to Taeil when he’s around? Why does he have to be a complete jerk and act like he doesn’t care at all about him? He deserves to be left in the dark after all, he never valued Taeil’s presence when it was there.

What goes around comes back around, isn’t it like that?

Which good has he ever made to deserve such a loving person in his life?

You’re right, none.

“Seems like you’re in an alcohol therapy in here.” Says someone out of nowhere, obliging Taeyong to lift his face to look at the interlocutor. 

“What is that supposed to mean?” He replies, shortly, trying to indicate he’s not in the mood for flirting.

“Well, it’s supposed to mean the most obvious meaning this sentence can have.” The stranger answers, smiling knowingly for his smart placement. “You’re drinking your problems away.”

“Yeah, and what about it?” Taeyong sits straight, drinking another shot as he stares at the other man. 

“Nothing about it.” He shrugs, smirking. “I just think you’re too cute to drink as if you’ve been widowed.” 

Taeyong rolls his eyes and decides it’s better to ignore. He stares into the led panel behind the barman, watching as it changes colors and patterns, trying unsuccessfully to deviate his attention from the stranger that just felt comfortable enough to take a sit by Taeyong’s side. His eyes are surely starting to hurt from staring into the flashing lights, but he doesn’t care. It’s actually comforting to have something hurting more than his self agonizing bitch missing his robot. 

“Did your boyfriend leave you?” The awkwardly insistent stranger asks, retrieving Taeyong from his trance. 

“How would you know I’m gay?” Taeyong asks, turning his face to him again. He doesn’t know if he ruined his iris from staring too intensely at the light, but the stranger seems kind of cute from this distance.

“I’ve seen you around before.” He answers with a quirk of his eyebrow, sipping suggestively at his white straw resting on a drink Taeyong hadn’t noticed before. “Going up and down the campus with that hot Japanese.”

“Oh? Yuta?” Taeyong soften his features, searching inside his mind for some remanence of memory of this stranger. “Do you know him?”

“Just like I know you.” He smiles softly this time. “Is he your boyfriend?”

“No, we’re just friends.” He takes a deep breath, already regretting what he is doing. But well, he’s not thinking about Taeil anymore, right? So it’s good. He thinks it is. “I’m Taeyong.”

He offered his hand, which earned a long lasting look from the stranger, before he could take it in a strong handshake. 

“Chittaphon, nice to meet you.” 

The next thing he knows, he and Chittaphon are dancing.

Not just simply dancing, they are  _ dancing.  _ Rubbing their bodies and shaking their hips, hands going up and down each other’s thighs, touching their chest, outlining their lips, pancing and teasing each other. He likes the game, he can not lie. 

Chittaphon seems out of this world. The way he moves is so captivating and amazing, sometimes Taeyong forgets he has to dance too. He just wants to stop and stare and record every movement he makes in his brain, for it is beautiful. 

But it seems like the DJ is watching their romance with the dancefloor, because the songs start to slow down a bit. They are provocative, sexy, suggestive. They demand that they both dance with their bodies closer, that their hands travel their bodies again, that their lips dare to touch, that their feet takes steps until one of them is clasped against the nearest wall.

It is this kiss that Taeyong is gonna remember. The way their lips fold and move, the way their tongues tangle and tease, the way they discover each other’s mouth. He’ll probably forget about everything, but he will remember Chittaphon’s short body pressing itself against his, his head hitting against the wall some two or three times, the growing boner he has inside his tight pants and Chittaphon’s hand wrapping it just to let it go.

He will remember the moment they stumbled inside a bathroom. He will remember the red walls enfolding them, keeping their secret, keeping their sweat as it sweated too. His tongue was all over Chittaphon’s neck and lobe, his hand was already inside his pants, feeling his heat. Wishing for it.

“W-wait.” He says, one of his hand tangled in Chittaphon’s dark hair, pulling him away a little. “My phone is- ringing.”

“Really?” He asks, biting softly in his neck. “You’re gonna stop this because of your phone?”

“I have to.” Taeyong answers, touching the device in his ear. “Hello?”

It takes some 10 seconds for the other side of the line to answer, but Taeyong doesn’t even feel like it. He can’t concentrate when Chittaphon is all over him.

_ “Taeyong?” _

And he freezes. 

It’s a voice he doesn’t listen to for a while now. A voice he never thought he would listen again, a voice he’s not familiar with anymore. 

He places a hand in Chittaphon’s exposed chest and pulls him away gently, trying to focus all that there is left of his sanity to double check if it is who he thinks it is. 

“Donghyuck?” He tries, scared of the answer.

_ “Yes! Fucking finally!”  _ The boy answers from the other side of the line. “ _ I’ve been trying to talk to you the whole day and your phone was always busy.” _

He exchanges a look with Chittaphon, who’s sitting on the toilet lid with his hologram phone, probably updating his social media. He shrugs, as if saying it was ok, for Taeyong to take his time. 

“I’m sorry I guess.” Taeyong replies to Donghyuck. His forehead couldn’t be more frowned then what it is right now. “Is everything ok? You’ve never called before.”

“ _ No, but I can’t explain over the phone.”  _ Taeyong nods, even if he knows Donghyuck can’t see him. “ _ Come meet me. You know where.” _


End file.
